


Sometimes the Clothes Do Not Make the Man

by NeoVenus22



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 05:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon hadn't had an excuse to wear a suit in a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes the Clothes Do Not Make the Man

Simon hadn't had an excuse to wear a suit in a long time. Bits and pieces, like stray parts to a jigsaw puzzle, yes, but that was only because it was all he'd brought aboard. He couldn't wear it most of the time, for fear of blood or some other sort of debris.

For awhile, he missed it. It was a representation of his upbringing, of his stature, and more than that, he was _used_ to it. Dressing like the others, however remotely, didn't do anything to bridge the gap between them, so he found himself stranded. He seemed unable to win.

When he put it on again for his date with Inara, the outfit he'd worn to his graduation ceremony and subsequent after party, he was surprised at how difficult it all seemed: the abundance of buttons, the precision of the lines. It hung differently than he'd remembered, likely due to an abrupt shift in diet and the lack of a decent tailor. The whole thing was disappointing. He'd expected to be at home in the familiar garb; instead, he just felt remarkably out of place.

"You seem distracted," said Inara, pouring his tea with a delicate and practiced hand.

"It's the suit," Simon confessed, overwhelmed with his sudden feeling of helplessness. He gave her a grin that even he recognized as crooked.

"You don't have to dress up on my account," she said, with something of an indulgent smile.

"You always do."

"Perhaps, but you're uncomfortable, which hardly seems fair." Inara set aside her teacup. "Maybe we can take some steps towards making you more comfortable?"

"How so?"

"My dress code is not as strict as you think," said Inara. She rose gracefully to her feet, stepped behind him, and slid his jacket from his shoulders. She folded it in half, draping it loosely over the edge of her couch. "Is that better?" Inara trailed her fingers over the nape of his neck. They were still warm from handling the tea.

"Yes," he said, "better."

"Are you still uncomfortable?" Simon suddenly felt her breath at his ear, and 'uncomfortable' was not the word that would have come to mind. "It does tend to get warm in here. And you are wearing a lot of layers."

"Well," said Simon, swallowing, "if worse comes to worse, I suppose we can always remove more of those."

Inara's hands trailed from his neck to his shoulders, then down his chest, to make their way to the buttons of his vest. She had to lean to do it, and her breasts pressed into his back. Simon breathed out. Inara undid the last button, and then his vest met a similar fate as his jacket.

"And how do you feel now?" she asked.

"Entirely overdressed."

"Easily remedied." Where it had taken Simon an inordinate amount of time to dress, even with skilled surgeon's hands, Inara took almost no time to undo his handiwork, removing his shirt and pants and leading him nude to her bed.

"You're still dressed," he observed through a haze. He was given to obvious statements now, since the blood was definitely flowing away from his brain.

"I'm not the one who's uncomfortable," she answered with a wicked grin, then opened her lips and took him between them. Inara usually wore her hair up, a fact that Simon enjoyed for two reasons: in the first, it showed her level of care and dedication to her appearance, the sort of thing he no longer had the luxury to do; and in the second, it allowed him an uninterrupted view of her mouth around him. The candlelight in her shuttle always benefited Inara's appearance, and particularly deepened the hollows of her cheeks as she tugged and sucked at his erection. Her gaze flickered upwards, the light catching her dark eyes and making them gleam, and Simon would have been embarrassed at how quickly he came undone, had it not felt so good.

Inara rose and sat down beside him, smirking relentlessly. "And now?"

"Much better," he said breathlessly. "Much, much better."

There was a lot to be said about an intricate wardrobe. There was also a lot to be said about going without.


End file.
